


A Nice Headache

by MadnessofVoid



Series: Sterek Bingo 2019 [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, And bakes, Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, Fluff, Gen, Other, Stiles Cooks, he does all the nice things for derek, makeshift restaurant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2019-05-08
Packaged: 2020-02-28 07:38:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18751963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadnessofVoid/pseuds/MadnessofVoid
Summary: “Stiles...what the hell is this?”The innocent look Stiles was wearing couldn't, and wouldn't, fool a soul. Not when there was evidence all over the loft that stank of make-shift restaurant. The TV the pack pestered Derek into getting was playing soft, elegant piano music for crying out loud! And were those the lights from Scott and Kira's disastrous date?Suddenly, Derek was developing a massive headache. He fondly named it Stiles.orDerek puts up with too much shit. Stiles is here to help a little.





	A Nice Headache

**Author's Note:**

> It's Sterek Bingo time! *jazz hands* And this is my first thing I have been able to write in months! Curse real life...
> 
> Theme: Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things

“Stiles...what the hell is this?”

 

The innocent look Stiles was wearing couldn't, and wouldn't, fool a soul. Not when there was evidence all over the loft that stank of make-shift restaurant. The TV the pack pestered Derek into getting was playing soft, elegant piano music for crying out loud! And were those the lights from Scott and Kira's disastrous date?

 

Suddenly, Derek was developing a massive headache. He fondly named it _Stiles_.

 

A soft smile emerged on Stiles' lips, which could either be a good or bad thing, depending on the situation. He maneuvered around the small dining room table (another pack pestered purchase) and held out a hand out as he bowed slightly.

 

“Welcome home, Derek! Have a seat!”

 

Derek wanted to argue. He really did. Because whatever was going...he wanted no part of. He just wanted to come home after a long day of stupid negotiations, with a pack that were getting a little too envious of the Hale territory, and take a nap. A nice, long, peaceful nap. Not be a part of Stiles doing...whatever he was doing.

 

But, _big_ but, he had to begrudgingly admit that the atmosphere felt nice. And he definitely could smell whatever it was Stiles had been cooking. Which was intoxicating. Hmmm... He could go for some food...

 

With a resigned sigh, Derek plopped down in the chair, startling when Stiles pushed it in for him. Okay. Weird. Nice...but weird. Derek wasn't used to nice.

 

Maybe he should nip this in the butt before it got out of hand...

 

However, when he opened his mouth to demand what the hell and ask for this to end, Stiles set a massive bowl on the table with several other items. Smaller bowls full of ingredients, bags of croutons, seasonings, dressings – salad stuff.

 

“Okay, big guy, first things first: the salad course. So! Do you want Parmesan, mozzarella, cheddar, Asiago, a mixture of them?”

 

Derek raised his brow, confused by the question. Confused by all of this, really. Part of him wanted to think that there was a secret agenda to all of this. Because why else would the younger man go through all this trouble? Was this...a date, perhaps? Shit. It was, wasn't it? Shit...

 

“Um...all but the cheddar?”

 

Stiles smirked, but it didn't have the usual bite. “Is that a question?”

 

“N-no. No...just...” He sighed, leaning his head back to stare at the ceiling. “Stiles...what the hell is going on?”

 

“What's going on is I am making you a salad. Next comes the appetizer. No, the salad doesn't count as an appetizer. You wolves eat too damn much, so you get a salad _and_ an appetizer. Don't you fight me on this! The main course will follow after that. And last, but certainly not least, dessert! After that you either get a foot massage, back massage, full body massage, or all the above. That's all up to you, dude. Then, if you want, I have a nice pile of movies you like set aside and you can have a little marathon. Or take a nap instead. Again, that's all up to you.”

 

...

 

What?

 

“You look confused.”

 

Derek snorted, allowing his eyes to fall back onto the pain in his ass. “Gee...what gave that away?”

 

A hum left Stiles, like he was contemplating something. Must've not been a deep topic, because he didn't keep silent for long. Then again, this was Stiles. It was concerning when he was quiet...

 

“Okay, Mr. Sass, here's the deal: you have been through a shitacular life. And I mean that in the nicest way possible. You also run yourself into the ground because you think you deserve to be so burnt out that you can't function properly. Don't give me that look! You totally _do_ do that! I have eyes! So, because no one else is reliable enough to do this, except Kira who suggested the lights and the music, I have decided that once a week I will invade your space and make sure you get pampered the fuck out. Because you _deserve_ it. I mean, you put up with a lot of shit. Mainly, you deal with a bunch of brats, yes, I'm including myself, who make your life even harder than it needs to be. And don't say you pamper yourself to stop me from doing this! I _know_ you _don't_! You have _no idea_ the meaning of 'treat yo self'!”

 

Stiles clapped his hands together, letting out a whoosh of air and slapping on a wide smile that, again, didn't have the usual bite. “So...what cheese do you want?”

 

There was no way getting out of this. Once Stiles set his mind to something – he would stick to it. Even if it killed him. Not so different from Derek, in that sense. With yet another resigned sigh, Derek sank into the chair and fought the urge to look annoyed. Even if this was...oddly sweet.

 

“All but the cheddar. Like I said before.”

 

“Excellent! Now...what else do you want on your salad?”

 

**~+~**

 

Never again will Derek doubt the lengths Stiles would go when on a mission. _Never_.

 

True to word, after Derek was served a (surprisingly out of this world delicious) salad, the appetizer came next on a massive plate he had no clue where it was dug up from. The appetizer was _homemade_ mozzarella sticks, caked in a buttery-garlic breading and had _homemade_ dipping sauces – _four_ of them. He almost asked how the hell Stiles pulled it off, but knew he wouldn't get an answer. Something about 'a magician never reveals his secrets', or some other similar bullshit. Instead, he opted to let the younger man know that it was 'pretty damn good', and bit back a laugh as he watched him preen.

 

Then came the dinner. Or, as Stiles insisted on calling it, the 'main course'. There was a heaping helping of the best mashed potatoes and gravy he had ever had the pleasure of eating, a variety of vegetables brushed with garlic butter, and this amazing pork tenderloin coated in breadcrumbs and spices.

 

“It's called Kotlet schabowy, if you wanted to know.” Stiles had said smugly while Derek devoured it. “Polish. Mom used to make it. I mean, the sides aren't usually what is served with it, but she wanted to Americanize it, I guess.”

 

He had come to a pause at those words, knowing full well the weight. A part of him wanted to ask again why Stiles was doing all of this. Even if he would receive the same answer, he wanted to know. But he couldn't ask. He once more settled with saying that it was 'pretty damn good', and chuckled fondly when Stiles preened a second time.

 

Dessert was...a surprise. It was a mix of several things instead of one. Like Stiles thought that Derek would eat all of this. (Derek loved desserts as much as the next person, but sweet Jesus, eating all this would _kill_ him.) There was four different types of cheesecakes, two different types of cupcakes, something that looked like smores but had been baked in a pan, peach cobbler, apple pie...

 

Yeah...Stiles may have overdone himself on this one.

 

“I can't eat all of this...”

 

“Then I'll put whatever isn't eaten in the fridge.”

 

“Why did you make so much in the first place?”

 

“I was anxious, okay?! I sometimes bake when I'm anxious! 'Scuuuuuuuuse me!”

 

In the end, Derek went with a piece of chocolate cheesecake, silently nibbling away as Stiles cleaned up. For some reason, the sounds of someone putting away food and doing the dishes was...soothing. Eased out the tension in the alpha's shoulders and melted away the aggravation from his meeting.

 

“How did that meeting go with the other pack? They gonna back off?”

 

And now it was back. He let out a snort, fighting the urge to roll his eyes.

 

“Ah. I know that sound. Guess that means we're skipping right to rough negotiations, then? Cool. I'll let the others know later. Your massage comes first.”

 

“You can just tell them now.”

 

“Massage first, big guy. That's more important.”

 

Sighing, Derek set his fork down. He attempted to scowl at the back of Stiles' head...but couldn't truly bring himself to do it. Not really. One thing to work up to at a time. “Why are you doing this?”

 

“Thought I already told you? You deserve it. You put up with a lot when you don't have to. Actually...you're putting up with ten times more shit now since you've regained you alphaness. Which isn't fair. The universe needs to cut you some serious slack! But, as a great villain once said, 'Life's not fair, is it?'”

 

“Did you just...quote The Lion King?”

 

“My point, _Derek_ , is that everyone takes advantage of you. Including me. It's about time that I repay you in some way. And if that means I have to haul my butt over here to make sure you're being pampered after all the crap...then fine. I don't mind. You know how long it's been since I could cook and bake like this? I'm treating myself as much as I'm treating you. As for the massage thing...well...I have been told I have magic hands, and it would be an _utter waste_ if I don't put them to good use!”

 

There was a hesitant pause, like Stiles was tossing around the words to say next in his head. Knowing him, that probably was what was happening. Finally, with a swift and shockingly elegant turn away from the dishes, Stiles continued.

 

“Look, I know you're not used to... _nice_. I mean, when was the last time anyone did something for you that didn't have some ulterior motive to it?”

 

A long, long time. When Laura was still around, maybe.

 

“I'm probably the last person you want to do anything nice for you...but it would appear that I'm the only one willing to do it. Well, okay, Kira said she might have something planned for you on your birthday, but you didn't hear that from me! Anyway...yeah. You're stuck with me being your 'treat yo self' planner, doer, thing, person. Yeah...”

 

He fidgeted, snagging a rag and frantically wiped his hands dry. “So! Have you decided what kind of massage you want?”

 

Derek, at last, allowed himself to smile. Small, private. He leaned back into the chair and sighed. “How about we forgo the massage this time? Have the movie marathon instead? We could...make a pillow fort.”

 

Tension faded altogether as Stiles beamed. Bright, also, somehow, private.

 

“ _Now_ you're talking, Derek! Now you're talking!”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Come check out the event!
> 
> https://sterek-bingo.tumblr.com/


End file.
